I know you love me but if you follow me I'll love you too!

Thursday, 30 October 2008

Rick Mobbs - Last image prompt.

Re-Written for the final Rick Mobbs image prompt.
SOON
The Martians are laughing at the odd, man-made dog, who 'conquered' the moon.
Soon they'll reveal themselves as the little 'tin gods' that they think they are.
They'll emerge from the shadows, throwing hot rocks at the automaton.

That poor dog, no space tree to bark at, legless, stranded, like a dead duck!
The Martians, standing there like Montezuma, ejaculating fire.
Spurting from every orifice and projectile of their tall tin frame.

But NASA will cut the delayed transmission - to the people on earth.
A million Internet flunkies will never quite know what's just gone wrong.
They press a button, terminate the session, find something else to do.

You think I'm kidding, maybe? the Martians will be laughing at us soon!
070797

Tuesday, 28 October 2008

TOP prompt - Totally optional option!

Posted for Totally Optional Prompts
I elected to take the totally optional option this week.

ALMOST

The first time,
you're really subjective,
autobiographical, almost.

Then later when you've
had time to shop around,
you get objective,
pessimistic, almost.

And then, when you find
your 'own voice' you become
romantic, optimistic, almost.

But they do say that:
'Patience is a virgin', almost!
080797

Sunday, 26 October 2008

Sunday Scribblings "Myself"

Written for Sunday Scribblings.
CONFESSIONAL

Just to prove to myself that I don't know what I'm doing when I'm drunk.
I went out to the pub last night and had a couple of pints, of Rum!
I rolled home about two or three a.m. and crashed out on the sofa.
Some time later, I woke up, crawled up the wooden hill and went to bed.
It's not like me to get pissed so easily but when I do I zonk!
And when I zonk, I snore, so the sofa is the only place to go.
Sometimes the walls are paper thin, like in my house, then the whole gaff shakes!

I'd really like to have a date with you but don't let me near the Rum.
Or the Vodka or the Whisky or the whiskey or the G and T.
In fact, make me steer clear of the top shelf, don't let me near the vino.
The laughing gear is strong enough for me but it has to be hand pulled.
From the wood and gravity fed, I know they say: keg still does the trick.
But any Tom, Dick or Lazarus can get up after a few of them!
Forgive me Father, for getting Brahms, It's been a Rum time since my last...
261008

Thursday, 23 October 2008

TOP prompt "Justice/injustice"

Posted for Totally Optional Prompts
Piccadilly-Pick-pocket!

ASSAULT + FLATTERY.

Daisy Dippy
on the 'dilly
kissed my lips
and touched
my willy
must've thought that
I was silly.
When she said
she liked
Big Ben!
I didn't know
she meant
my ten...
quid that
she slid
into her pocket
that she dipped
from my
sky rocket!
AS1393
Glossary
Dippy, Dip = pick-pocket
'dilly = Piccadilly
Big Ben = rhyming slang for ten
quid = £1 English money (slang.)
dipped = stole, pickpocketed
sky rocket = pocket

Have you read my poem Polyamourosity yet?

Wednesday, 22 October 2008

readwritepoem #49 - Echolalia

Written for the readwritepoem prompt - Echolalia

THE LIVERPOOL ECHO

Echo, Echo! Hey, Read all about it!

Poetry book sells quarter million copies!

Echo! Echo La? Lia? There yer go!

Echo, Echo! Straight from the horses mouth!

Patten, McGough and Henri, sold out!

Echo! Echo La? Get yer Echo La!

Irreverent, sardonic, funny, sad!

In an unintelligible Scouse tongue,

The newsboy shouts it out, Echo, Echo!

He bawls, with his echolalia tic.

MYC171008

Have you read my controversial poem Polyamourosity yet?
Go on clink-the-link!

read write image #1










Retrospective of a Myth.
Drawing by RossinaBossioB

Click the drawing
for a bigger picture.












IN FAGINS DEN

It’s like Fagin’s den in ‘ere love, let’s shoot…

‘old yer ‘orses guv, I’ve still got some gin.

Does yer ‘ubbby know that yer out up west?

Leave it out, it wus ‘im who sent me ‘ere.

Well the sooner yer drink up the better.

Yer won’t ‘urt me will yer gov? I’m not well.

Yer look kosher to me darlin’, what’s up?

Nuffin’ much, I’m just out to earn a crust.

Well yer can trust me love, I’m a doctor!

Cor blimey! Yer not that Jack the fingy?

201008

You can read what everybody else wrote at readwritepoem

Have you read my controversial poem, Polyamourosity! yet ? - clink-the-link-Here

Tuesday, 21 October 2008

Writers Island - Controversial

Written for the Writers Island prompt - Controversial
POLYAMOUROSITY

(ME + HER + HIM + HER + POLLY)
Little miss Polly polyamorous
Don’t she just think that she’s so glamorous
Her, him and her mono-poly combo

Dancing in the gym with him she thinks, hey
Beats that polyester fashionista
From the polytechnic that lives next door

Or that bloke, misogynist Sylvester
With his carrier bag mentality
Serial monogamist, etcetera.

Then there’s that polythene politician
Who has no clue about which way is up
Is he hetro, homo, bigot or what?

Polygamy is seen as blasphemy
Metro sex, - metrosexuality?
Polyamorist, - polyamory!

Mahogany bedpost monogamous
Monotonous monogamy? Not me
I’m a multidimensionality

Me and my other personality.
Not tried ethical non-monogamy
Twist my arm and I’ll test it properly.
191008
polyamourosity Vs polyamorousity and polyamorosity...

Saturday, 18 October 2008

Sunday Scribblings "My Style"

Written for Sunday Scribblings prompt : My Style

MY

STYLE

Fake this line, write it in quick time slowly

Right side up wrong side down which way to go

Everest is the highest mountain still

Every day someone tries to change the rules

So you want to know what my style is hey?

Then you’re going to have to give and take

Yesterday was different to today

Lines come and go, tomorrow who can tell?

Every day is different to the next.

I’ve not got a lot to say about form

Soon there will be more forms than there are poems

Many times I try to do the right thing

Yet, every time I fail and fail again.

Still want to know hey? Freestyle is my style

Too many people try to get it right

Yesterday was simple, now things are hard.

Lessons are continually being taught

Every day something new makes me forget.

181008

Wednesday, 15 October 2008

Read Write Poem #48 Collaborative

Written for the collaborative prompt from Read Write Poem

TENUOUSLY FORGETTABLE MEMORIES

As yet I don’t know which words to delete

Antiquated meditation, perhaps.

Untouched, nobody guards his artefacts,

sacred tribal tatterdemalion

now lost in the courtyards of his villas.

I attempt to scavenge some of the junk

and recognise the badge of civil chrome

on the parked cars belonging to the host

across the alleys, gleaming in the sun.

Nowadays though he hardly leaves the house,

if he resurfaces the Pap’s will pounce,

they scream obscenities in his front yard

and slink away to jettison their bile.

His brilliant tablature will not deplete.

151008

Tuesday, 14 October 2008

TOP prompt "Internal Rhymes"

Prompted by Totally Optional Prompts

this is my attempt at a 'climbing rhyme'.

TIC TOCK STOP

Climbing rhyming

tick-chiming-tock!

Skimming the clock

with a block in

a sock. Ticktock

up the clock face

of rock they climb,

making time tick.

Day time they come

at a run, just

for fun to find.

In their mind they

must wind the key

clockwise. Three times

back, tree trunk style for a while, ticktock, I'll stop!

131008

Wednesday, 8 October 2008

Read Write Poem #47 of Monsters + Dinosaurs

Posted for the Read Write Poem prompt: of Monsters + Dinosaurs
YESTERDAY IS DEAD!

Yesterday is dead
yes that's what I said
yesterday is dead!
You won't catch me
digging for dinosaur bones.
Hell, I've got enough
troubles of my own.
You're sixty-five million
years behind the times.
So, don't speak to me
about your scientific finds.
Don't talk to me with your
pre-historic minds.
'cos,
You won't catch me
digging for dinosaur bones.
Hell, I've got enough
troubles of my own.
Yesterday is dead,
yes, yesterday is dead + done.
But babe, you wouldn't
think it, the way those boffins
go - on, talking about the past
like it's the 'In-thing' to know!
You won't catch me
digging for dinosaur bones.
Hell, I've got enough
troubles of my own.
They cite devolution,
like it's some kindda solution.
It's a piss-poor contribution!
If that's the way they
think, that we oughta grow.
Yesterday is dead
yes that's what I said
yesterday is dead!
4599
I had to dig this one out of the archives and dust it off. It was originally written in 1999 in response to the science fiction movies Jurassic Park 1+2
I think that I thought of them as being some kind of cyclical prophesy that the world was devolving into.

TOP prompt - Discoveries

DISCO VERY

I used to go to Disco Very,

every Friday night so merry.

Poco Loco, Disco So-so,

Cinderella’s an’ Arabella’s.


Sing, Sucu sucu, dance like Ferry,

Do the Strand in the Roxy room.

Piccadilly Jilly’s, Pip’s and Placemate,

Disco Very, yeah, yeah, yeah!


And everybody at Disco Daze,

would disco dance to the disco craze.

Northern soul, do the Tamla walk,

those seventies days in Manchester.

061008

Sunday, 5 October 2008

Sunday Scribblings "Forbidden"

MAGIC ISLAND

Tara skips barefoot on the hot sand of Brown Sugar Beach towards the sea.

Before she reaches the strawberry scented ocean she strips naked.

Freeing herself from her city clothes she steps into the cool pink sea.

It is a beautiful day, she tells herself, as she splashes around.

When the surf caresses her body she starts to forget about him.

The salts in the water and the heat from the two suns start to heal her.

Floating on her back Tara lets the gentle waves carry her forward.

Before long the magic island of Tiny Tree is just a feint dot.

Turning onto her front her powerful arms strike out and she swims back.

The beach deserted earlier, is now a hive of activity.

Dozens of naked men and women are picnicking on the hot sands.

Their perfect bodies screaming immortality, clothes are forbidden.

041008

Thursday, 2 October 2008

RWP #46

GODDESS OF LOVE
She is my meditation and my muse,
without her I cannot live.
Every day she steers my ship at dawn,
to new horizons and beyond.

She is my communication,
my voice, without her I am silent.
As if by magic-carpet,
galaxies appear at the speed of thought.

She is my constant companion,
without her I am lonely and lost.
At the market-place she is with me,
when I re-wick and oil the lamps.

She is my imagination, my strength,
when I rub her lamp she comes.
She is more than a genie to me though,
she is my goddess of love.

She is the spirit that fuels my soul,
on towards immortality.
Already we have built a million mansions,
in the eternal realm.
021008